


tempest in a teacup

by jk_rockin



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Feeding, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-03
Updated: 2011-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:44:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jk_rockin/pseuds/jk_rockin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shut up and eat what my hot wife baked you, Stump. (or: PG brownie porn.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	tempest in a teacup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fishmouse](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=fishmouse).



> The only square I finished for last year's [hc_bingo](http://hc-bingo.dreamwidth.org/). For [fishmouse](http://fishmouse.livejournal.com), who wanted _Patrick/Pete/Ashlee, Ashlee & Pete cook up a feast, invite Patrick over, feed him and then snuggle_. What she gets is Patrick/Pete/Ashlee, PG brownie porn, for the body hatred square.

The dining room table isn't very big- the Wentz-Simpsons aren't much for dinner parties- but it's not tiny. The two trays almost fill half the table. Patrick blinks. "We just _had_ dinner. How much did you make?"

"We maybe got carried away," Pete says.

Ashlee comes back in, carrying a wire rack of what look like brownies. "Fresh from the oven," she says, setting them next to the cupcakes.

"When you said dessert, I thought you meant, like, ice cream," Patrick says. "Probably on the couch."

"We have ice cream, I think," says Ashlee. "I can check the freezer."

"No, that's not what I- this is just, it's a lot of food." Patrick looks at the table. "Holy shit, are those pumpkin squares?"

"Got the recipe from your mom," Pete says, sliding his hands around Ashlee's waist. She grins, leaning back into him. "Sit down."

They push him into a chair. Pete passes him a plate of pumpkin squares. They're a little wonky, not as puffy as his mom's, but they smell amazing. Patrick picks one up. "I didn't think she gave that recipe to anybody."

Pete snorts. "Pfft, your mom loves me. Now shut up and eat what my hot wife baked you, Stump."

Patrick bites into it. It's actually pretty awesome, wonkiness aside- just as buttery as he remembers, cinnamon and sugar, and still a little soft in the middle. Ashlee watches him carefully. He eats it in smallish bites, chewing diligently, and then puts the plate aside.

"Have a cupcake," Ashlee says. "Grandma Simpson's recipe."

"No, thanks." Patrick looks at the cupcake. It's probably insanely sweet- he knows Pete's love of Sprinkles- and the one Pete's halfway through looks fluffy and delicious inside. "I'm full."

"What, after one? Bullshit." Pete grabs a cupcake, puts it on his plate. "Go ahead, they're good."

"Really. I ate plenty at dinner."

"No you didn't," Pete replies, face serious. "You got a salad, which you didn't finish, and drank three glasses of water."

"Well, I _feel_ full, so no, thank you. More for you two." Ashlee and Pete are both watching him. Patrick can feel his cheeks going pink.

"It's not going to kill you, Stump." Pete pushes it towards him. "What, you're afraid of eating now?"

"Jesus, you dick, I'm not _starving_ myself," Patrick snaps, defensive. "I just- I'm working a lot, and I've got to much to do on the album, and it's not like I was skinny to start with-

"- and this time there's no band to hide behind, and everybody's going to be looking at you," says Pete. "What, you think you weren't enough?"

Patrick pauses. "That's not what I said."

"No," says Pete, "but I think that's what you meant."

Ashlee slides onto his lap. Her hair, tied back out of her face, is coming loose around her ears. She's beautiful. The insides of her knees press against his hipbones; Patrick's hands twitch on his thighs, but he doesn't touch her. Ashlee takes a brownie from the rack, and holds it out to him.

"It's not a judgement, Patrick," she says. "We want to make you feel good."

"I'm not- you didn't have to-" he stutters. Ashlee's leaning forward, the brownie pointed at his mouth, and Pete's scooting his chair over to sit next to him, next to them, carding his fingers through the short hairs at the nape of Patrick's neck.

"Let us," Pete murmurs. "Let us do this for you."

Patrick hesitates, not sure where to look. His eyes flicker between them, between Ashlee and Pete's matching smiles and the brownie. It's just a little one, powdered sugar coming off on Ashlee's fingers, surely it couldn't hurt if he just-

"Come on," Ashlee whispers. So Patrick does.

He opens his mouth. Ashlee pushes the brownie in- just a corner, just a little bit. He bites down. More comes away than he'd intended, almost half crumbling between his teeth, sugar sticking to his palate. The inside's warm, still gooey. He chews slowly. From beside him, he hears Pete exhale sharply. "Fuck," Pete says. "Again."

Patrick swallows, opens his mouth to speak, but it's smothered by more brownie. Ashlee's eyes are wide as she nudges forward, feeding more into his mouth. He bites again, chews, feels the chocolate melting against his tongue. Feels Pete and Ashlee staring at him. He swallows self-consciously. Pete takes the last third of the brownie from Ashlee, batter smudging his fingers, and pushes it into Patrick's mouth. The pads of his fingertips brush Patrick's lips.

"What?" Patrick mumbles, licking brownie off his teeth. "What are you doing?"

Pete leans forward and kisses him, just once. Then Ashlee leans in, kisses Pete, and turns back to brush her mouth against Patrick's, still smeared with chocolate. Pete passes her another brownie. His pupils are huge.

Ashlee smiles, kisses Patrick's forehead. "Come on, Stump," she murmurs. "Open up."


End file.
